Album: Desaster – The Arts Of Destruction

Germany’s Desaster have been pumping out albums of none more true black thrash for over twenty years, They’ve probably gone through several fields of cows worth of leather, enough bullet belts to feed a mini gun for a week and enough spikes to make…something big…really spiky. So, does The Arts Of Destruction find them in a more intospective part of their career? Are they blending electro and world influence into their sound? Have they changed at all? F*ck no.

This is the same Desaster as before. And I have no problem with this. Songs about Satan, war, the occult, death, destruction (and all variations thereof), buzzsaw, guitars, blasting drums, ice cold riffing sitting happily alongside fist-pumping thrash choruses. It’s brilliantly old school. Hardly original in any way – you might occasionally crack a grin in the middle of a song as you realise the riff could’ve been lifted almost wholesale from somewhere else (the chorus to ‘Splendor Of The Idols’ is a little too close to Sepultura’s ‘Mass Hypnosis’, for example), but it’s delivered with enough aplomb and “Fuck yeah METAL!” attitude that you’ll forgive it.

Weirdly for a black metal influenced release, they actually have a decent bass sound, probably necessary as the guitar is that evil buzz. It’s fast and it’s fun, and when it slows down for a second it’s just building up to being fast again. They manage to slow right down for almost a whole (eight-plus minute) song on ‘Possessed And Defiled’ – but that’s only to show off their crowd baiting chops, with the whole thing built on a ‘Fear Of The Dark’-esque melody.

Listen to ‘Queens of Sodomy by Desaster:

This is not a clever album. Don’t expect to be challenged. When the first lyrics you hear are rasping, evil laughter, you can tell Desaster aren’t going for anything beyond evil, fun metal. This is exactly the kind of music that you need to hear at a European festival. The sun is going down, your hangover has been kicked and you’re starting to feel pretty pissed up again. With a foul bit of fried snack food in one hand, a beer in the other, these guys would take the stage and remind you why you used to draw pentagrams all over your school books. Snack consumed in record time, and beer downed, multiple horns are thrown. And they’d throw ’em right back.